Famous Last Words
by Pinned back Wings
Summary: The world had gone to sh*t, I never learned how to hold a gun no mind actually shooting the damned thing , and that's why I joined a group of men that decided that women were going to used as their slaves. Escaping was the easy part, staying alive... well that's the hard part; with a loud mouth sister, and a crybaby, nothing can be simple. Daryl/OC/Shane ? Rick/Lori. SEASON ONE
1. Prologue

**Prologe **

****You know how they say that someone's last words will stick with you for the rest of your life?

_Protect your sisters with your life, give it your all. Die before you see them lie down, submitting._

Whoever said this was one-hundred percent right, because even in this Hell I still remember my Mother's dying words. It was used to usher out her last breaths; however, not before saying _I love you_ once more before I had to put an axe into her cranium. Grace, only a ripe age of eight, was begging me not to do it; already on her hands and knees, sobbing her heart out. Lillian, just turning fourteen a couple months before, held Grace back, sobbing into her red hair. I would never forget those words, or the faces of my sister's as I killed our own Mother.  
However, the audio clip that is stuck in a loop inside my brain is my Mother's dying screams.

* * *

The world had gone to shit, I never learned how to hold a gun (no mind actually shooting the damned thing), and that's why I joined a group of men that decided that women were going to used as their slaves. If it wasn't the end of the world, and if it wasn't for the deal not to touch my sisters-my pride would've stopped me. However I was only twenty-six, fresh out of college with a pre-med degree, and barely kept us alive for a week.

The leader of the group was a man called Dean Jamison. Six foot nothing, three-hundred something pounds, and completely intimidating. There were a mixed assortments of males in the groups, anywhere ranging from high school students, to a retired college professor.  
Other than myself, and my sisters, there were four other girls.

All scared, petrified, and terrified; almost as much as I was.

* * *

First couple weeks wasn't so bad; they mostly had us cleaning their clothes and fixing dinner. We lived in an encampment, made up of ten tents in a tight circle, and a make-shift 'kitchen'; the children were made to sit at the table and clean the food while we were made to fix it up.

The second week is when they started taking women into their tents. We were promised protection, and in return we basically sold our souls to them.

Third week in, it was my turn. I fought back, not wanting my first time to be taken by some asshole I barely met a few weeks ago. I managed to break a nose, and jab a few ribs before they threatened to use Lillian in my stead. They started whispering about how she was growing, finally, and getting an ass on her, even quite a mouth. Dean commented that he'd give her a use for 'that mouth'. That's when I broke and said I would do anything. Those pathetic, stuttering words left my mouth before I could catch them.

_Please, please; do anything you want, just don't touch my sisters. Anything but that, I'm begging you._

Fourth week, I had been used by everyone in the group. I felt like filth, and when I washed I wanted to scrub myself raw; anything was better than feeling a million fingers on my skin, comforting themselves.

Half way through the fourth week, the Dead attacked. They started coming in from the outskirts of the town we were camped around, and just kept coming. Instead of picking up knives and guns like the other women did, I through any food I could get my hands on into a knapsack, got spare clothes, and my sisters; that's when we got the Hell out of Dodge.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

Have you ever ran so far, so long that your lungs burn? Your skin prickles with heat and sweat, and you only hope that you collapse to forget everything that's ever happened?

_I have._

It had been a few days since our brilliant jail break. The Georgia heat had beaten down Grace; she got dehydrated and we had to stop for a day. I spent my time running between our small, hidden camp and the small, rocky creek. I remember listening on Discovery Channel about boiling water from natural resources to get rid of any bacteria; however, when heating up the metal pot I stole, my hands were shaking. And for the first time in a long while, I buried my face into my hands and cried.

Lillian comforted me, making me feel smaller than I actually was.

"It's okay big sister." She stated, comforting me in a big hug before holding my hand in her own, rubbing at the dirt and muck from my knuckle. In that exact moment, I felt so guilty, so petrified that Lillian saw me like this, and without thinking I withdrew my hand as if she was poison. She looked hurt, as I drew back and wiped the tears from my eyes before dipping a cup into the smooth boiling water, and soothed it into Grace's mouth. She sputtered for a few moments, but slowly eased it down her throat.

At the encampment I wasn't allowed to clean myself up, after my little "rebellion," as Dean called it. His word was law, and I was kept away from the other women as they bathed. The dirt from my hands, even under my fingernails, were evidence from this, as it easily rubbed off on Grace's smooth skin as I soothed her into sleep that night. I don't think either Lillian or Grace could see my anxiety, or horror when it finally went dark.  
While Grace and Lillian slept, I stayed outside the make-shift tent with an old rusty frying pan, which was probably no use anyway.

For the next few days it was like this, the same thing after the same thing. We'd eat, scout around, eat some more, and then they'd sleep while I kept watch. My movements were weaker, and my vision was hazier by the fifth day of the same schedule.  
Of course, that had to be the one day that there was a rustling in the brush we were clearing.

"Lillian, take Grace back to the tent and stay there. If I'm not back within the hour, pack up and run."

"But-"

"No buts Lillian," I whispered back harshly, the dark circles under my eyes giving away at my anxiousness, "do as I say. And no matter what you hear, don't come running to save the day."

We were both thinking the same thing.

_Sacrifice._

Lillian nodded and took Grace by the hand back to camp, where I knew they'd be at least safe for a few hours. I lifted my frying pan, which was even more rusted from the rain on day two, and ground my teeth from the knowing building inside of me. As my stomach twisted in knots, and my hands started shaking, I carefully walked towards the brush.

I swallowed the lump inside my throat before I pushed the brush apart, and there was only a rabbit. It was moving it's little nose, before scurrying off. I let out a breath I had been holding before stepping back.

"Stupid rabbit."

Feeling hands on me, I screamed obnoxiously loud before spinning around, and landing on my backside. One of the Dead stood in front of me, dropping down to my level before opening it's already detached jaw and giving me a gurgling noise of blood. Screaming again, I kicked its head back. Jarring back, I attempted to get up, but only managed to get my ankle grabbed by the damned thing. Pulling back, I raised my pan and smashed it over the head, making blood and muck fly off and onto me.  
I had killed Dead before, using melee weapons, but never guns; however, this was the first time that it stopped moving after the first hit. Taking the chance, I kicked it again in the face, forcefully pushing the nose into it's skull before scrambling to get to my feet.

The blackish blood dripped from it's face as it started to make a God awful moaning noise, something that chilled me to the bones. Raising the pan above my head, I brought it smashing down into it's head. At first, it seemed like it had no effect; it simply stunned it. The second time, the edge of the pan wedged itself into it's soft cranium, like it was mush. The third time, I took off it's ear.

My aim was an almost once in a life time thing. I could never, even as a small child, hit the same spot more than twice.

By the sixth time, the plagued blood had splattered over my body, and on my long-sleeved plaid shirt. Dirt and dried blood had settled on my dark washed jeans, and my shoes were just as bad, if not worse.  
Letting out a disgruntled scream, I continued to pound in the dead man's head until I clear chopped off his head.

Wanna know my secret? I pictured Dean's head on the guy's body.

* * *

To say I was exhausted by the eighth day of the same, continuous schedule was an understatement. I wanted nothing more than to nestled down into the blanket we used as a bed, and sleep the days away.

Lillian caught me on the ninth day, dozing off during my watch of the perimeter. She literally had to shake me awake, and gave me the third degree about adequate sleep and nourishment. She looked so much like our Mother when she tried to scold me, before I told her that I had been sleeping, and eating my share of the rations I stole.

Of course, that was a lie.

Grace nor Lillian would be eating right now if I was eating my share of the food. We had another three days, give or take, before the food ran our and we'd have to go out on a run in the nearest town, which was Atlanta. Too risky.  
Lillian nor I had any experience in hunting, so that was out of the question, and we weren't by a big enough pond for fish to be in to spear them.

At the moment, I was sorting through firewood; the damp versus the dry. Lillian was braiding Grace's hair, who was picking at the dewy grass and leaning on her elbow, obviously bored.  
Although, it was the first day she had been up and walking around; it was an approvement from her dehydrated state that she held for the last few days. She even cleaned up the creek near by, her hair had more shimmer to it than it did before, and her skin had more life to it.

"Lily!" Grace whined obnoxiously before pulling away from her, "You're horrible at braiding hair! And you kept pulling it! You can't do it as well as sissy or Momma!" Lillian froze, as I tried to shake it off as another whiny comment. Grace was only eight, she deserved some complaining and whining; I bet she didn't know what was going on half the time. Before Lillian could counter with a snark remark, I snapped: "I'll braid your hair after I'm finished sorting the firewood I collected okay?"

I could tell Lillian was a bit hurt by the comment that Grace made, but she'd have to suck it up and get over it. Grace was the youngest of us all, and didn't deserve to live in this chaotic world.  
It was twelve minutes, approximately, before I was finished. I dusted off the lingering wood splinters that wove themselves into my jeans, and sat crossed legged behind Grace, pulling different sections of her hair into a tight braid.

Before I finished however, there was more rustling in the brush, and the trees. It was louder than before, and I could distinctly hear the tromping footsteps in the mud that was smoothed over the grass. We all froze, listening for the tin cans to be kicked.

And they were.

Tin cans on a line had been set up between two bushes, hidden in the long grass, about five days in. Security measures for the paranoid and harmless.  
I ushered Lillian and Grace into the make-shift tent, as quietly as possible, and handed them each a make-shift weapon that Lillian had procured over the endless week we had been out here. Needless to say, I grabbed my frying pan and took a tiny step towards the moving bushes.

If it was the Dead, it had to be at least six of them to move than much brush and to make that much noise in the mud. Usually, they got stuck in the mud or were silent, especially in the deep woods.

What came through the brush was not what I expected. Hell, I half expected it to be two bears going at it; not three non-dead people.

Two males, and a female.

And they had guns.

And I had a frying pan. What was I going to do, cook them up with a side of bacon? I was royally fucked.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

It was silent when our eyes met. It was like one of the old westerns with Clint Eastwood, where everyone in town watched the two cowboys show down. The two males looked towards each other before back at me, with an unexplained emotion taunting me in their eyes.

I won't lie because in that moment I couldn't stop from shaking. The realization struck me faster than a ton of bricks; these men were dangerous. The younger man had his finger steadied on the trigger, growing a sinister look on his face before frowning once I flinched. The older man had his handgun out stretched past both of the younger ones, his eyes shifting around the campsite before landing on my sisters.

He was tall, around six foot, give or take a few inches and was fit; muscle packed on muscle. His hair was slicked back by, what looked like, sweat, but I couldn't be sure of it unless I was closer... which I wasn't planning on doing. His eyes were narrowed, trained on me and watching my stark movements.

The other man was shorter than I was, with black hair sticking out of an old baseball cap. He couldn't be much younger than me, according to his five o'clock shadow that was growing on his chin. His eyes were not looking at me or my sisters, but everywhere else. His movements were twitchy and sudden, like he was expecting something to jump out of the brush nearby (which, I didn't blame him for).

Lastly, my eyes were drawn to the female, and what I saw surprised me, shocked me, and made me splutter.

She was pregnant.

Her rather large stomach protruded out from underneath the mucky green shirt, and scratches were running red on it. Her eyes were red as well, like she had been crying, and her short, brown hair was sticking up in every which way. She couldn't have been older than eighteen by the way her body looked, and how she presented herself.

But here I am, talking about their looks and how shocked I am. Hell, I probably wasn't a pretty flower right now, nor did I smell like one.

Shoe less, blooded clothes, and dirtied everything; I was surprised they hadn't shot me by now.

My toes curled into the wet soil beneath my feet as I tightened my hand on the pan's handle, hoping that they'd just disappear. Of course, Lillian had to open her big mouth.

"We ain't got no food," She ushered out sharply, using her best southern accent she could possibly muster as she shifted to cover Grace more, "We're scrapping by as is, we can't give up no food or shelter for ya'll."

Baseball cap looked fiercely at her when she said that and promptly shot off a round of whatever was in the gun.

"Are you fucking crazy?!" I nearly screamed, my shaking appendages had gotten worse and my vision was blurry when I suddenly moved in from of the line of sight of my sisters, "You'll attract everything within a mile radius to our location!" I tightened my grip once again, my knuckles going white and my fingernails digging into the side of my palm.

The older man, the one I was afraid of stepped forward and jabbed his thumb at our packs, "Give us all your food and weapons."

"I have children!" I cried out, the voices inside my head shouted at me for doing so, and I soon paid the price when he raised his weapon and piratically shot me in the shoulder. I suppose the pain drowned out my sleepiness as I screamed, falling down on one knee as I clutched the bleeding shoulder, "What the fuck!"

"I told you to give me your food and weapons, unless you want me to shoot the small one." He aimed the gun at Grace, as Lillian pulled her closer, watching with fear in her eyes. I struggled to get back up on my feet before throwing the pan at his feet, "We don't have any guns, only melee weapons. We have a three day ration left of our food."  
He buried the nozzle of the gun into my side, and jabbed it in between one of my ribs; I could feel the bones spread apart, making room for the foreign object. It was a no brainer than he meant business.

This is why I didn't become an entrepreneur; I suck at making deals.

He guided me over to the knapsack we had before telling me to sort through it all, and show him what we had. My shoulder throbbed in pain as the bullet lodged itself into a bone; I could feel the scrapping against the ivory bone as I gritted my teeth.

I started pulling out all the clothes I had grabbed; this is when the pregnant woman stepped up and started grabbing at the spare clothes meant for me. She even grabbed the coat I nabbed for Grace, which had to be four sizes too small for her. Throwing the pots we were carrying, they decided to take the larger, metal pot that I used to cook soup in (mind you it was usually berry and grass soup...), and several small containers we used as dishes.  
Turning the knapsack upside down, ten water bottles spilled out along with our food rations, our hygiene products, and Grace's stuffed bear.

The woman sorted through the hygiene products, grabbing at tampons and pads that I got specifically for Lillian (she hadn't started going through puberty yet, and I wasn't going to be surprised when Tom visited her), the solar shower that I swiped from Dean while I was in his tent one night, our comb, and chap-stick. When she made a grab at Grace's bear, Grace cried out.

"Please not Corporal Mint!" Lillian held her back as Grace tried to run at the woman, which caused her to shoot a nasty glare at me.

"Control your children!"

I opened my mouth to answer her with a 'they're my sisters!' but instead I got another bullet inserted into the same shoulder, which made me scream. This one wasn't as deep because it was shot from a farther vantage point, but it wasn't the same bullet. It was a rifle shot that had entered my shoulder, and it burnt. I clutched at the wounded shoulder, feeling the blood seep out from between my fingers. Was this how I was going to die? The pain was simply unbearable, and before I realized it, the world slowly turned black.

* * *

Hands, thousands of hands were on me, burning me with comforting touches. I thrashed at them, bit at them, and clawed at them.

"Hold her down!" One called out.

More hands. This time, holding down my own arms. I hissed, jerking my head forward, making it collide with someone's head. My brain jarred backwards, hitting the backbone of my skull before someone pushed me back down, holding my head down by pressing against my forehead.

"Stop!" A weak voice cried out, "You're hurting my big sister!"

No, no, no! Lillian run! Run back to the tent and hide! Bury your head in the covers, wrap your arms around Grace and comfort her with all your might.

"If you don't stop moving, we'll have our way with your sister instead." It was a cruel voice, an angry voice. I whimpered, and let those pathetic words slip out of my mouth. They all laughed, joyously and called after Lillian as I heard her footsteps run away in the opposite direction. Someone pulled my hair, letting my head snap back and be blinded by a thousand eyes, peering at me.

"You're ours tonight Vicky, all ours."

Horrible things, painful things, needles, burning me, bruising me, cutting me, raping me, killing me..  
I felt like a bird with broken wings with a nest to protect, and yet I also felt like a Lioness protecting her cubs; was this maternal instinct kicking in? Or just a survival instinct?

I cried either way, I screamed, begged, pleaded, and prayed to God; he didn't answer me back.

I felt shattered.

* * *

Pain. Searing pain running through my shoulder and chest, is what woke me up. Instead of a bright light, it was a dim green color and I could hear twenty voices rumbling besides me, proceeding in what they were doing.

Fingers, digging into my skin.

"Fuck!" I screamed, immediately swinging my fist at whoever was doing the painful act. My hand stung, as I felt hands on me, comforting hands, and I screamed as loud as possible.

"Shut the bitch up!" A hand covered my mouth before I bite down on it, hard. I could taste the blood in my mouth from the bite wound before the hand was pulled back, proceeding with 'She bit me!'. Something gagged down my next cry, and I choked at the taste of sock in my mouth. My vision was blurry, fuzzy, and doubled. I could see blobs of people, but not faces.

More pain.

Tears streamed down my face before I wound up my leg and kicked at whoever was trying to hold my feet. An 'Oof' was met, before two strong hands held my straining legs down. It felt like that night all over again, and I panicked. Where was Lillian? Grace? Was this Dean with us? Marcus and Nicholas? I struggled against the weight being pressed down on me before relieving pain spread throughout my body.

"I got one bullet!" The cling of the bullet was dropped somewhere as the fingers dug back into my skin. I bit down on the sock, more and more tears coming out as the pain became more unbearable.  
The stinging and tearing at muscle was all show, as I could feel the blood soak through into my hair as I laid down on whatever this thing was. People gasped, mostly woman even I could hear above the ringing in my ears, and that's when I heard Grace's whimper.

My ears were trained for the distinct sound as I found adrenaline suddenly pumping through my veins. I squirmed and kicked, making the fingers dig in farther and deeper, and for added effect I could feel the bastard scissoring his fingers in the hole making pain spark at my nerves.

"Got it!"

Stinging. Pain. Dizziness. The whole package. I tried calling out to Grace, reaching out to her, but I was restrained; I was stuck.

Liquid ran into the wound before a searing heat pierced through my skin. Screaming, tears, blood.

My body was so weak, so strained, that as soon as the heat pressed against my skin; I blacked out.

* * *

Droplets of water, sliding down my cheeks, and ending at my lips.

"Big sister." Someone sobbed quietly, tugging at my pant's pocket before burying their face into my chest, heaving heaviness into it. I tried to place a pathetically, shaking hand on the person's head, but a jarring noise from outside woke me from the easy trance.

"Grace, Tori needs to sleep. Leave her be."

"She's so cold Lily!" The heaviness was removed from my chest, as I heard Grace's cries for release getting softer and softer; I fell back asleep once again.

It was the burning of pain that woke me up next. The coolness of the heated breeze was sliding over my tender body as I tried to open my eyes. They felt glued together, and rather painful to open. Reaching up with a trembling hand, I felt at my eyes and cried out in pain as a sharp nerving strain ran up into my shoulder. Spontaneously rolling over wasn't the best idea, as I soon learned, because I rolled right off whatever I had been laying on. I bit down on my lip to keep myself from screaming as I landed on the jolting shoulder. Pressing my hand down on it, carefully and gingerly, my hand was painted a bright red.

I whimpered, "fuck." I looked around at my surroundings, clutching the twitching shoulder, and noticed that the blurry green from early had been the tent roofing that was over head. Now, the real problem was getting up.

"Move your big toe." I said, trying to keep a straight face, but ended up cracking a smile and a broken chuckles. _Kill Bill_ had to be on my top movies list just because I often quoted it without realizing I was doing so. Sincerely however, I wiggled my toes before bringing myself up onto my knees, and then steadily onto one knee. My body was straining, the blood rushing down from my head as I quickly grew light headed. Quickly pushing myself up, using the cot (as I now saw) as a balance for myself.

The tent unzipped.

I had the worse fucking timing of any human being.  
I made eye contact with the woman that stood before me, brown hair and eyes; simple and average. Slim figure, bony fingers holding a bowl of fresh water and a rag. She promptly dropped the water dish, letting my toes bathe in the lukewarmness before she pushed my backwards, landing on my ass on the cot.

I went to let a string of cusses come out of my mouth, but quickly shut it when I saw a large, bulking man come into the tent. Olive skin complexion, black hair, fit, and wearing beige pants with a white shirt.

"What happened Lori? I heard you yell."

She yelled? Hell, I could barely make out what he was saying because of the damned ringing in my ears right about now. Stiffening when he walked towards me, "Lori" blocked off his path.

"Can you go watch Carl for me? I'll talk to her, and dress her wounds."

Who in the hell was Carth? Was that her child? Who would, in their right minds, name their kid Carth? He only nodded, leaving the tent, but not before sending me a wary expression of distrust. My head was pounding, and my body quivering, shook, and sporadically jolted.

"You're in shock," Lori finally spoke, her voice was toned motherly as she grabbed the damp towel off the tent floor and dabbed at the opened wound, and I hissed in turn, "You were out for three days. Everyone thought you were bit naturally. Your fever got progressively worse everyday, and we didn't know if you'd make it or not."

"Where's Gr-grace and Li-li," she cut me off before I could embarrass myself.

"Your daughters? They're playing with the other kids. However, they're worried about their Mom I must say."

I spluttered out a wheezing cough, and choked on my own tongue.

"Breathe! In and out. Good girl." She stroked my back calmly, if not a tad bit stiffly before releasing me, "Now we need to get you washed up and changed." Looking down, I had noticed that I was caked in blood except in some spots where I could see my pale skin shinning through, no doubt from someone wiping the muck off of my skin. My stomach let out an aggressive snarl before I could suck it in. She laughed, like there was nothing wrong with this situation, and added, "And some grub. I bet Carol and Amy could whip something up while you wash up."

How many people were here? My throat was dry, and my mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton. I bit my tongue and let it hang out of my mouth before licking at my lips curiously; it was a new sensation.

"I'm guessing you have cottonmouth, we had to give you some random assortments of medications that we could find. Sorry." I shook my head, not accepting her apology.

"You. saved. me." Each word was punctuated with an uneasy, croaked voice and the lapping of my tongue against my lips.

Lori laughed silently, stiffly before pulling me up off the cot and helped me outside the tent. The Georgia sun blazed down on me, and it blinded me. My ears rang louder than before, the low buzzing noise distracted me while hands wrapped around my waist. Two sets of arms.

I looked down, but I already knew who it was.

Grace buried her head into the small of my waist, sobbing with the tears coming out in thick boils of water before it soaked into my shirt that was torn, "I thought I lost you!" She cried, yelling at the top of my lungs, "You can't scare me like that ever again! Never ever!" She pulled back before I could hug her and slapped my hand away, running over to two blonde girls would were giggling and staring over at me before scolding Grace. Lillian, however, held on long enough for me to wrap my hands around her shoulders and pull her into a loose, gingered embrace.

"I told them we were your daughters, the sympathy got to the ex-cop. I'm sorry for lying."

She started crying that very instant, and all I could do was rub her back soothingly before kissing her forehead.

"Stupid." I croaked before she laughed, cracking her chipped smile at me and hugging my tightly, making my ribs scream in agony; however, I held in that scream myself. We were safe.

Or were we?


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

The water was cold, raising goosebumps upon my skin. Except, it was stinging at my hot flesh that surrounded my wound, and at the sunburn on my skin. The water around me slowly started to turn a murky brown from all the gunk on me. I slipped in farther, letting the water wash over my chest and sensitive skin. Teeth chattering, I quickly slipped under the water, letting the water run through my hair. I tried to still my wounded shoulder from moving too much, as Lori warned that it could reopen at any time within the next few days. So, using one arm, I back peddled towards the water's edge and reached for the bottle of (I'm guessing was Shampoo) soap.

Lathering the soap into my grimy, tangled, and blood stained, red hair I stepped deeper into the water. Now, the water was becoming slowly warmer, or my body temperature was dropping. I brushed my fingers over my pale skin, scrubbing at the dirt and blood that had tainted my skin.

There wasn't much to be said about the state I was in other than: painful. It felt like my head was too big for my neck, and that every finger and toe was swollen. I watched the water turn a murky brown and red, swirls that were created from the cool water. I hadn't realized how dirty I truly was, it was very surprising. When I was done washing up, I returned to the edge of the pond, or lake; clinging to the edge so that my lower back was barely out of the water. I just wanted to scrub at my skin, make it raw. But instead, I turned to running my finger nails over my skin, making it an angry red.

"Does the water feel nice?" It was an innocent question, but it made me feel so uncomfortable in that moment when I saw it was the larger man with olive skin that I was in the tent earlier, I pushed back from the edge, ducking under the water so that my nose was just above the water. He sighed, pushing back his hair from his head and crouched down to the water's edge giving me an almost pleading look, "Look, I didn't mean to scare you earlier; we just, we just need to protect our group, just like you're protecting your kids 'alright?"

Blowing air bubbles into the water, I narrowed my eyes at him. It was an almost instantaneous dislike, but almost near attraction, "they're not my kids."

"What?" He lucked taken back by my small voice before quirking his eyebrow at me, "who are they then?"

"My sisters." I said quietly, pleading with my eyes not to ask anymore questions, to avail however.

"What about your parents?" He sat down, obviously getting comfortable with himself as I wrapped my arms around my torso. His eyes held guilt and hope, one of the things I've come to disbelieve in.

"My Dad left my mom after Grace was born, accusing her of cheating on him. We-my Mother didn't pass the first couple days. She was bitten." He seemed pleased with the answer I gave him, retying his shoe. The silence was uncomfortable.

"What's your name?" I asked carefully, still wrapping my arms tightly around my torso. He didn't looked shocked or surprised, but instead even more pleased with himself.

"Shane Walsh, a pleasure to meet you Tori."

I looked at him, my eyebrows probably turned down with a confused, pouting look on my face, "Did Lillian tell you?"

"Grace actually," he seemed actually genuine in this answer, "she was scared. She cried for the first day you were out, luckily Carol was able to quiet her down by helping her find her teddy bear."

"What about Lillian?"

"She hasn't really been talking except for the two sister's Amy and Andrea. She'd sit on top of the RV listening to her iPod, and when it finally ran of battery she took a book out of your knapsack."

"Our knapsack, it's still here?"

Shane licked his lips before leaning on his entwined hands, "We heard two shots in the forest just south of here, followed by loud screams. One scream had to be a child, Dale figured. We sent myself, Daryl, and Merle to check it out. Merle and Daryl were unwilling, but we needed the man power. At first, we found two girls - Grace and Lillian - hunched over a body. There was supplies everywhere, we figured the camp had been sacked."

"Did you see the bandits?"

"No, but the girls described them. Said they weren't afraid to pull that trigger, they just wanted your supplies."

I let the water sink into the tips of hair as it fanned out, "They threatened to shoot Grace." It was barely above a whisper as Shane nodded his head saying he would do the same thing if he had a kid of his own.

"They were unwilling to let us help them, saying that they'd know you'd come back fine; just like the same old Tori. Lillian picked up a large rock and all about bashed Merle over his head if it wasn't for Daryl. She was scared, broke down in tears and asked us to save you."

I nodded my head, thinking warmly of the protectiveness of Lillian towards Grace, "She was defending Grace. I told her if anything happened to me to do whatever it takes to make Grace safe."

Shane agreed with me again before continuing with his story, "Daryl picked you up, there was blood everywhere; both old and new," he looked pointedly at me, awaiting a reply that would never come, "we thought you had been bitten. When we brought you back to camp there was a lot of controversy. Most wanted to just put you out of your misery, including Merle and Ed. Others like Lori and Dale wanted to try to save you."

"How did you decide?"

Shane ran his hand through his hair again, "We didn't actually. In the midst of all the fighting, Grace started sobbing. Everyone immediately shut the hell up, Lillian was holding her and they were both trembling, asking us to save their mother; which they obviously lied about."

I was thought about the next thing I'd say, but before I could Shane continued, "Which I don't blame them for, this lie ultimately saved your life. No one wants to kill a mother. Lori took care of dislodging the first bullet and second, and you started thrashing."

"You... I remember."

"Gave Merle a black eye, me a swollen jaw." He tapped at the swelled corner of his jaw. I think he was expecting an apology, which wasn't coming.

"Well if you woke up in incredible pain and voices, hands touching you; what would you do?"

He shrugged before getting up, dusting off his pants, "The main reason for me coming her is because Lori asked me to give you a towel. She has extra clothes back at camp, and before you ask I'll turn around. Save some of your dignity that still remains." He did turn around, but I still wanted to hit him for the rude comment, but held back as the shaking started to go through my body. I edged out of the water, wrapping the towel around me. I was shaking uncontrollably by the time I was done tucking in the towel nub so it'd stay in place as we walked.

I have no idea if Shane noticed the shaking because if he did he didn't say anything. He walked two paces in front of me, hands loosely in the pockets of his pants, and when we reached the camp Lori motioned me towards one tent, different than the one I woke up in. I turned towards Shane to thank him, but pursed my lips as his eyes betrayed him. I was scared of him, his eyes reminded me so much of Dean. I turned quickly, and walked as fast as possible towards the tent. Lori smiled and handed me a stack of clothes, "I'm currently washing your clothes. They're is a lot of blood stained on them."

Brilliant observation Sherlock. I didn't like Lori, nor did I like Shane (other than the fact I found him vaguely attractive) because the simple fact is that they pried. For God's sake, it was the end of the world and people couldn't stop being nosy.

"Most of it is the Dead's." She didn't make another comment as I said that, but instead told me that the clothes I was borrowing were from Carol. It was extra pants and shirts that Carol didn't need.

"We don't know your bra size however, since you were wearing a sports bra," she said loosely, and almost loudly as to spite me, "so you'll have to go bra less until your bra can be washed, is that okay?" I wanted to tell her how uncomfortable that made me feel, especially in a camp that was dominated by males; however, that'd require her nosiness to be poked and prodded at my selfish memories. Instead of telling her that Dean made me not wear a bra around camp, for easy access, I simply nodded and took the clothes from her hands.

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me," Lori said almost too proudly, "thank Carol when you change okay?"

I only nodded as she walked away. There was a burning sensation building on my back, as if someone was watching me. Perhaps it was my paranoia getting the better of me because when I turned to look there was no one in the immediate area. I opened the tent and changed.

It was a simple thin white shirt that hung loosely on my hips, and the pants (that were a orange-ish color) were looser than expected.

* * *

I thanked Carol, and offered to help her clean the dishes from this morning, which Lillian had mentioned something about Breakfast before I woke up. She declined, saying that I should be resting and that it was no strain on her to let me borrow some clothes. She smiled carelessly before returning to washing the dishes in a small tub of water, a rag and bubbles at hand.

I went around periodically and asked if any of the females needed help, and each time it was the same: Oh no, please go and rest. Even if every part of my body was weak and struggling to stay limber, I wanted to be some help. However, this effort was fruitless because by the time the sun hung lower in the sky and the cool weather rolled in everyone was done with their chore.

I decided to skip the dinner Grace was so excited to have, saying it was the best thing she had, had since the whole Walker Incident. I don't think I could stomach it even if I wanted to, because it felt as if this camp was the same as the old camp we stayed at.

Shane was the new Dean.

Lori was the new Jeanette.

Dale was the new Professor Robinson.

Glenn was the new Nicholas.

All the women were made to do chores when the men left to hunt and gather. So instead of eating the food I would throw up, without a doubt, I kissed Grace's forehead and Lillian's stating I was going to rest.

And I did, till the next morning I slept. The dreams didn't appear, and I appreciated darkness for the first time in my life.


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Grace sat by the fire pit, teddy bear in hand making it dance in pretty, neat circles. She wasn't smiling nor was she moving, just quietly sitting with her legs tucked underneath her, and wearing a familiar pout.

"Lilian! Stop tugging at my hair please! Mommy did it so much nicer!" Lilian was just behind Grace with a brush in one hand and Grace's crazy curls in the other. A loud thunk made Grace cry, and me drop one of the dishes to the ground, which ended in a clatter.

"Lilian! Do not hit your sister!"

It was almost a daily routine for Lilian to torture Grace somehow, and get yelled at by me. She'd make one of her finicky faces and run off towards Amy and Andrea. However, today was different. Today, Lilian didn't get up, didn't run over to Amy or Andrea. Instead, she put her head into her hands and let out a heart wrenching sob of pure agony.  
Grace looked astonished to say the least, and put on her best face, running off to Lori and Carl.

I grasped Lilian in my arms, and pulled her into a hug. She cried into my breast, soaking the material on the front of shirt, and I just hugged her, closer than before. Shane shifted uncomfortably after seeing the wailing sister, clinging to the only person that could comfort her, and even Carol shifted her arms around Sophia and pulled her close.

"I want Mommy!" Lilian sobbed, clutching my shirt in her hands before I felt a hand on my shoulder, and a husky voice.

"Maybe you should take Lily back to the tent and comfort her there." It was Shane, someone who had steadied me and the girls since our arrival. Others speculated that we were nothing but trouble, namely Morales and Eliza. I gave a firm nod before looping my arm around Lilian's shoulders, and letting her hide her face into my clothed shoulder. It had been a while since Lilian broke down in tears, and let all the sadness and remorse wash over her. By the time we reached our tent, her face was covered in both sweat and tears. Her face was utterly flushed with both embarrassment and self-loathing. When we finally got inside the tent, Lilian's knees buckled under her and she fell the the floor.

"I want Mommy!" Lilian sobbed again as she tried to dry her eyes, but the tears kept on flowing. I knelt beside her and tugged her into a tight embrace, whispering sweet things into her ear like: everything will be okay, the others will protect us, and I promise you, I'll never let go.  
The sting of the lies was strung into my heart, but it seemed to calm Lilian down if only for a moment. She ran her arms around my waist, in circling me with her warmth. For a moment it was silent once again, the only thing was the light breeze shifting the tree's leaves. However, it did not last long before Lilian started to weep again.

I soothed her, to the best of my abilities. I was never good at these types of things, even when it came to Grace. It was an awkward hug that I gave her as I constantly patted her back with as much sympathy as I could muster.

"Lilian, you are a strong, beautiful, and passionate girl," I started to say as another sob erupted from her throat. I didn't know whether I was making it worse and better, but I took a deep breath before continuing, "Momma would've been so proud to see you now baby girl," I stroked her hair firmly, "and I know exactly what she would say to you."

"What?" Lilian sniffled, looking up with big, dim eyes.

Shifting her bangs away from her forehead, I pressed my lips against it before muttering: "There is no life without struggle." And she wailed. Her cries were piercing, making my ears ring as I tried to calm her down.

"Please don't cry baby girl," I pressed her head into my chest, letting her hear my heart beat rapidly, "I can't stand to see you cry anymore."

For a few moments, her sobs and cries lowered until her breathing was rhythmic. With all the strength I could muster, I carried her to the cot we shared and laid her on it. Before I left, I pressed another kiss against her forehead and wiped away the beading tears on her cheeks.

"Sleep well Lilian."

When I stepped outside, I headed straight for Grace. As much as I worried about both of my sisters, it seemed as if Lilian was taking the brunt of the hardships. I was the oldest, and it somehow felt as if I failed a sincere duty. I promised my mother protection from the world, but could I protect them from the memory of her? Could I even protect them from themselves?

These are the things that keep me up at night.

* * *

When I found Grace, she was cheerfully playing with Sophia and Carl. I wasn't sure what they were playing but it looked like tag, or some variant of it. Grace was running after Sophia, half out of breath and trying to keep running. She was sweaty, dirty, but the important thing was she was smiling. Carl yelled something, catching both Grace and Sophia's attention and they started running after him.

As I watched them run off towards the center of the camp, I felt nausea overcome me. I hunched over, my hands on my knees and started dry heaving. All this worry and anxiety was building inside of me, and I could feel it reaching its peak.

"Victoria?"

As I turned I saw Carol, a worried expression sprawled out across her face. She was walking over, faster than normal remind you, but walking no less. I went to call out "I'm fine!" but instead bile came up in my throat, and I started throwing up on the ground. My breakfast, and what little I had for lunch, came up and spewed across the dirt. Gagging on my own stomach's content, I lurched forward before puking more. All the water that I had drank had now started to come up, and before long all that was coming up was straight bile.  
The stench was the first thing that hit me, and then my salty tears and sweat that was rolling down my face. I had nearly forgotten that Carol was by my side, rubbing my back almost affectionately before helping me to my feet.

"I'm so sorry." I spluttered out, covering my mouth with the back of my hand as the tears started to dry. Carol only laughed nervously and told me that there was nothing to be sorry about, and that she'd clean it up later. I felt guilty, and told her I would. She only nodded her head and sat me down on an old folding chair as she hurried off to get my a bottle of water.

"Drink this." She ordered, looking more serious than before as she raised a hand to my face. I flinched back, thinking that she was going to hit me, but instead laid a cool hand against my forehead. When I opened my eyes, she looked slightly hurt but said nothing about it.

"You don't have a fever," she said as she soothed my back after I sipped on the water, "what's wrong?"

"Nothing." I tried to hold back the acid-y feeling arriving up my throat once again before standing up abruptly and using the nearby plants to promptly throw up more bile. Carol held my hair back, even though my vomit was already mixed into the coppery locks. I was a heated mess before I stopped again, and started dry heaving since there was nothing in my stomach to throw up anymore.

"Somethings obviously wrong here, stay here. I'm getting Shane to help me bring you down to the lake to the wash up."

My body was trembling before I knew it, and my tongue felt dry and heavy. I brought my hands to my knees when I started feeling more nausea. I held my hand over my mouth, as more tears came out. My stomach felt like it was twisting and convulsing into different shapes, and it was painful.

"I told you she wasn't feeling well, now help me get her down to the lake to wash up."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. 'Lright." It wasn't Shane's voice that responded, but a deep southern accented voice that I didn't hear to often because I was afraid to speak to him: Daryl. An arm wrapped around my shoulders, steadying me as we walked down the dirt path towards the lake. My vision was less than stellar and quite fuzzy but I could tell I was passed from Daryl to Carol.

"What are you doing?!" Carol yelled before there was a sudden splashing noise.

"You asked me to help, and now yewr screamin' at me cus' I'm helpin'? Jesus woman. Now hand 'er to me." Carol was trembling under the force of my weight as she passed me off to Daryl. It was cold water that greeted me, but it felt...good. Arms wrapped around my waist, bringing me in deeper before splashing some water on my face. I gasped at first, not expecting it.

"Breath deeply." His voice was calm, and made me shiver. I tried to breath deeply as another handful of water was splashed into my face. I kept breathing deeply before I felt my stomach calm down and my vision return to normal. The nausea wasn't one-hundred percent gone, but it was more than enough to allow me to push away from Daryl's body and let my body sink into the water.

"Looks like she got better real quick."

The water started moving as I watched his figure retreat out of the water. He went over to Carol and spoke to her before stomping off back to camp.

"I'm sorry." I called after him, but he made no move to say he heard or respected my cry. So I lowered myself into the water and let the cold wash over me like a wave.

* * *

"Can you tell me what's wrong?" Carol asked again as she helped dry my hair. She brought me new clothes and helped me change. I scrunched my nose up, and scratched the side of my face.

"I feel guilty, and worried."

"Guilty? Whatever for?" She asked, still drying my hair just like my mother did. I didn't answer but instead leaned back to look at her in the eyes, and breath heavily.

"Before we came to this camp, I wasn't eating because we didn't have enough food. Someone would have to starve for the night, and I couldn't let Lilian or Grace know. God, if they did they'd probably offer to let me eat," I closed my eyes, letting Carol's fingers begin to braid my hair, "so I kept it from them. I also wasn't sleeping right, only getting an hour or two of rest a night if I was lucky."

"That doesn't answer my question." Carol stated, as she finished braiding my hair.

I left it at that. What was I suppose to tell her? Before all this I was with a group of men that raped and abused me? Before all this I wasn't allowed to eat because it was a privilege, and therefore when I eat now I feel like those whores back at my old camp? And what if she told me that I was being stupid? What then? Would I get angry and hit her? Because then, I'd be as good as the men that taught me to be that way.

"You should at least thank Daryl for helping. The poor man got soaked you know? He wouldn't say it, but I could tell he was concerned."

I could tell she was upset because of the way she spoke; softer than before, and eerily similar to the way that some of the girl's at the old camp spoke. She left without saying another word, and I was left there to my own thoughts and devices.

Could trust ever be that simple?  
How could Mom trust me with both of my sisters?

After all, all I did was fail her over and over again when everything was shit. So why would she? Was it because she had no other choice? Or because she knew in her heart, that all these failures is what made her love for me even stronger?

Bullshit, Momma never thought that way.

I shook my head before getting my soaked shoes and socks, and headed back up to camp.

* * *

When I arrived back at camp, I was graced with the presence of an angry Ed, who by the looks of it had already yelled at Carol.

"You, girl, come over here." He ordered, looking pointedly at me before I shuffled over, not once looking at him in the eyes, but instead at my shoes, "what cat got your damned tongue? Why don'cha apologize to my woman here? She had to clean up your fucking mess ya know?"

I was quiet.

"Fucking answer me!" He howled. I jumped, looking up with a tremble in my shoulders as I pleadingly looked at Carol; she looked even worse than I did. I was too busy looking at Carol apparently because Ed reached out and grabbed me by the collar of my shirt, effectively ripping it.

A loud scream ripped from my throat, as memories flooded my head. I pushed back, landing on my tailbone and a dull pain ran up my spine.

"What the hell is going on over here?" Shane yelled, running over as he wiped his hands on his pants. The dirt and grime accumulated on his hands were now smudged onto his tan khakis. His brow was furrowed and wrinkled. Once he helped me up, he looked over at Ed, "I asked: what the hell is going on." It was a growl, a deep seeded one.

"Nothing," Ed spat, looking over at me, "just asking the girl if she would kindly apologize to Carol." He put emphasis on kindly, and grasped Carol's hand in his own, seemingly crushing it with such force that Carol winced and looked apologetically at me. I was shaking from the control he used in his voice, similar to Dean in a way; that's what scared me more than anything. I clutched onto Shane's arm, and without looking up spoke softly: "I'm sorry Carol."

"See that's all I wanted." He turned and started to walk away, dragging Carol along with him.

The hot summer heat was beating down my neck before Shane shifted his arm and loosely, awkwardly patted me on my shoulder. It was like he didn't know how to respond to my trembling, to my clutching; I wanted nothing more than to be safe.

And that was a dream, a hope, that even here couldn't be reached.

Shane guided me back to one of the chairs, and sat me down. He stood in front of me, his shadow dominating my figure as he examined my shirt. He lifted up the tattered piece that had been torn, and I did nothing but recoil to the kind touch. I didn't dare look at his face when I saw his boots leave the gravel in front of me. The nausea seemingly bubbled back up in my stomach before something landed at my feet.

"Change into this," I looked up and saw Shane, scratching underneath his chin before shifting his feet, "it might not be exactly clean, but it works and should cover up your scars."

I froze.

I gathered up the shirt Shane had given me, and hurriedly walked back to my tent. I unzipped it too fast, and made the zipper come off it's track. I didn't even bother to zip it back up but instead entered into the tent and saw Lilian still asleep on the cot.

I stripped off my tattered shirt and threw it to the ground and brought a hand up to my collarbone. My fingers ran over the fresh scars that were inflicted by Dean.

_"Such a good girl Vicky."_

_"Don't call me that."_

_Another slap._

_"Did I ask you to speak?"_

_Quiet shutters of embarrassment._

_"Good girl." _

_He unzips his pants, and climbs on top of me. I struggle against him._

_"No, no!"_

_Another slap, but I fight back harder than before. I use my nails to scratch the side of his face good, and let him howl in pain. It gave me a chance to escape, or try to. He grabbed my ankle, making me fall face first onto the floor. He drags me to him._

_"Good girls don't fight back," A flicker of something metallic, "bad girls get punished." _

_He cut into my skin, making pretty lines of red stream down. Screaming, pain, flashes of black and red overcome my vision, and suddenly darkness._

_When I awake he is gone. I was left naked and blooded with Lilian clutching to me, crying._

I whined fiercely before shoving Shane's shirt over my head, the shirt barely skimming over my mid-thigh. Lowering the shirt collar, I fingered the bubbling scars and let the tears prick at my eyes. I sniffled, but didn't let the liquid drop from the corners. Seemingly, on the outside (at least to Lillian and Grace,) I seemed to be doing fine. But inside? It was... a train wreck.

I had more collateral damage than Marilyn Monroe.

* * *

When Lillian awoke from her brief nap, I tried my best to smile. However, it was more a grimace than anything else; the only important thing was that Lillian bought it. She glanced over my shirt (Shane's shirt), and gave me a confused look.

"What happened?"

"Nothing too important," I answered, probably too quickly, "How are you feeling?" Pressing the back of my hand against her forehead, I felt the heat radiate off in palpitations. She sat there silently while I pressed my index and pointer finger against the vein in her neck, and resolved that her heart was also beating faster than normal.

She slapped my hand away, "I'm tired," she whined, "All I do all day is watch Grace, even at our other camp-" she paused, looking at me with her damned, glittery eyes before continuing, "at our last camp that's all I did. I want to help!"

"Lillian," I started, feeling that this was going to be blown out of proportion by her, "I know how you feel; useless right? Well right now, the best thing you can do for me and for this group, is to help with your sister. I know it might not seem like it, but I appreciate all the help that you give...I...I know I haven't been much of a sister lately, but I'm trying!"

Lillian was silent, her bangs covering her eyes, "You haven't been much of anything since Mom died."

Frozen.  
I felt like the world stopped moving for a second.

"All you do is feel sorry for yourself and bottle up your emotions, you know?" Lillian cried out, looking at me dead on before continuing as she fought back tears, "I'm sorry that you were raped to save us, that you had to be put through that; however right now? You're being selfish!" Lillian sat up, and in a flourish went out of the tent and back to the campsite.

Needless to say, my heart was beating out of my chest. The nausea was back, and before I knew it, my head was resting against the cot that earlier, Lillian was resting on. I wanted so much to cry, to let everything out, and to wail into the blankets; I didn't. My limbs felt numbness as I continuously sat there, mindlessly thinking about nothing.

Anxiety and guilt plagued me once more, and the endless questions of self-worth were stringing through my head as if they were hanging on a drying rack.

I haven't done much of anything? Wasn't being raped enough?

Have I been so blind to the needs of my sisters? Am I being selfish?

And most of all:

Can I really do this? Be everything to my sister's? To this group?

I closed my eyes, and soon found myself drifting into a dark abyss; one plagued by the memory of not my past life, but my former one.

**Author's Note:  
**So a lot went on in this chapter, and originally this was SUPPOSED to be broken up into three parts, but I think it flows a bit better combined. A lot of drama, which is what Victoria and her sister's are ultimately bringing to the table, and a lot of unspoken emotions from Lillian! Is Lillian the one being selfish? Or is Lillian's outburst constituted, that Victoria is really the one at "fault"?  
Tori showed more of her weak side in this chapter, do you like it? What's better: a strong, bottled up, anxious, paranoid Tori? Or a Tori that gets guilt-riddeningly sick, gets flash backs often, and cries? Both of these sides will periodically show up throughout the story! So be prepared to love them both.

I'm more focusing on bringing the characters into the plot, and evolving right now than relations with other characters i.e.: Shane and Daryl. Merle will appear in the next chapter, for sure, along with Jim and Dale. Chapter six will be focused on Grace (Gracie) and you guys will be able to see how much this little girl actually understands, and how she is dealing with it. Gracie, is actually one of the most complex characters that I have actually ever written, along side Victoria. Lillian is kind of the standard bratty, young sister that nobody ever wants, but everybody gets. Another thing is: would you rather her end up with Shane or Daryl? Because right now, Shane seems to be more helpful, but Daryl more worried.

Would you rather have the boy-next door helping you, or the bad-boy worrying for you afar? ;D (My life struggle during the 2nd season UGH.)

Chapter eight or even seven, will probably when they all head off into Atlanta, and meet up with Rick. So hopefully I get some good responses so I can hurry up and write Chapter five! Thanks for reading and hope you guys enjoyed!

(Merry belated Christmas as well!)


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